Jesus of Suburbia (Jesus of Suburbia)...

I'm the son of rage and love, the Jesus of suburbia
From the bible of none of the above, on a steady diet of
Soda pop and Ritalin, no one ever died for my sins in hell
As far as I can tell, at least the ones I got away with
And there's nothing wrong with me, this is how I'm supposed to be
In a land of make believe, That don't believe in me
Get my television fix sitting on my crucifix
The living room or my private womb, while the moms and brads are away
To fall in love and fall in debt, to alcohol and cigarettes and Mary Jane
To keep me insane and doing someone else's cocaine
And there's nothing wrong with me, this is how I'm supposed to be
In a land of make believe, that don't believe in me